A/N: And of course my first contribution to the TW fandom would be a tragedy. I hope you guys will like it.

Summary: It was supposed to be a nice dinner, another date. But a simple, normal nightdrive turned into a horrible nightmare he couldn't wake up from. There was broken glass everywhere. And blood.

I own nothing.

Broken Glass:

A sharp, long and shrill creak sounded in the quiet graveyard as he pushed the old gate open, stepping past it with silent steps, his shoes softly crushing the grass. He didn't bring anything, he thought to himself regretfully. He should have brought him something. He deserved at least that.

His brow creased for a second in sorrow and he closed his eyes shut, tilting his head down with a sharp inhale of breath to hold back the pain that threatened to take over. He couldn't allow himself think about it. He wouldn't. Not now. Not yet.

There was no one there beside of him, he noticed as he opened his eyes again, grateful for the privacy he desperately needed. He didn't think he could say what he had to say if there were other people there. He could see the headstone he was looking for from where he was standing. With his heart clenching in his chest, he brushed a hand over his jeans and moved forwards, letting his legs guide him as he couldn't seem to do it consciously.

The orange, warm light of twilight started fading when he stopped in front of the grave, replaced by the gray glow of early evening. It shone over the stone, blurring the words written on it. He didn't need to read them. He already knew them by heart, even if he'd only been here once.

"Hi." He said quietly. He licked his lips slowly, eyes flicking to the side for just a second as he tried to decide what to say first.

"It's been a long year," He finally said, kneeling down in front of the headstone and reaching out to run the tips of his fingers over the rough surface. If he closed his eyes, maybe it'd feel like touching him again. God knows how he wanted to.

"You know, we could've taken your car."

Derek's eyes glanced to the side, watching Stiles' face as the boy frowned, hands loosely resting on the wheel and his eyes watching the road. The corner of his mouth twitched and he had to resist an urge to reach over and smooth out the frown off Stiles' face.

"What's wrong with yours?"

"I dunno," Stiles shrugged, his frown deepening. "Yours is... bigger."

Derek tried really hard not to snort.

"Pervert, you know what I mean!" Stiles called and glanced at him for a second before returning his gaze to the road with his frown still intact. But now there was a small, amused smile on his lips that he could not hide. "Get your mind out of the gutter." He mumbled grudgingly, and this time there was an actual snicker from Derek's side.

"Relax, Stiles." He said, smiling faintly. "Your Jeep is perfectly fine."

"But it's not as impressive."

"It's only dinner." Derek tried to reason with him, rolling his eyes. "No one is even gonna look at your car."

Stiles shrugged again and let out a small "Hmph", tagging at his collar before his expression eased and he gave Derek another short look, this time accompanied by a soft smile that made Derek's stomach flutter.

"I still don't get why I couldn't just wear a normal T-shirt," Stiles grumbled. "This thing itches."

"I think you look handsome." Derek commented, greenish eyes running over the buttoned-up white shirt Stiles wore in appreciation. His face was calm, eyes focused on the road as the light of the occasional car's headlights shone on his face. He was beautiful, toxic. "It suits you."

"Oh, shut up." Stiles rolled his eyes, but smiling widely. Derek sucked in a breath at the change. He loved his smile.

Stiles rarely dressed up for anything, and so Derek's opportunities to see him in anything but hoodies and jackets were too few for his liking. His hand moved slowly towards Stiles's knee, sneaking up his jeans and to the inside of his right thigh. The boy let out a surprised yelp, one hand slapping Derek's hand away and head turning to glare at the wolf.

"Seriously?!" He growled at Derek's wide, shit-eating grin, whisky-colored eyes flicking repeatedly between the road and the man sitting next to him. "Now?

"Derek shrugged. "You were the one saying we don't have as much nasty, kinky sex like we used to."

"But NOW?!"

"Why wait?"

"You-" Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to wipe the smug grin off of his boyfriend's face. Derek just laughed, the sound careless and free and contagious, and Stiles couldn't help but let out a huffed laugh that quickly turned into an amused snicker.

Derek leaned to the side, now close to Stiles' ear. The boy could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed behind his ear, slowly dragging down his neck and making Stiles' breath hitch. He shuddered, one hand slowly climbing to rest on Derek's neck and pull him closer, fingers caressing the wolf's jaw as a breathy moan left Stiles' lips.

"Derek..." Stiles breathed, feeling as if his face was on fire. He was hot and everything in him was vibrating, tingling as his pulse quickened and his heart thumped faster. Derek's touch was burning on the skin of his neck and his jaw and his eyes fluttered for a second.

Just for a second.

A second, and he didn't see the truck coming, and neither did Derek. He didn't hear the horn screaming as the blood was rushing through his ears, didn't grip the wheel hard enough.

It was almost too late then, when the truck's headlights washed over their faces and Stiles' eyes widened as Derek yelled his name, and he turned the wheel sharply, desperately. They were bolting past the truck and the terrible noise and the wind hurt their ears, and Stiles tried to scream Derek's name as he lost control over the wheel, fear washing over him and taking his breath away.

He felt Derek's hand closing on his wrist hard

.He heard his name being called, and the warning in his scared voice.

He heard a crash... and then, nothing.

"You know, Scott graduated." He said quietly, hand still resting on the tombstone. "He told me last week, he proposed Kira. She said yes." The smile that graced his lips was sad, broken. "It could've been us."

Cool breeze blew through the treetops, and he looked up for a moment. The tears were threatening to spill over.

"The pack is still there. But it's not the same without you." He whispered to the silent grave.

"I'm not the same."

It was the sound of broken glass falling onto the ground that finally woke him up. He winced in pain as he moved his bleeding legs, testing his aching limbs. Everything seemed to work, even though he hurt everywhere. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and he was pretty sure his left leg was busted. A pained hiss and groan escaped his mouth as he dragged himself out of the smashed Jeep and collapsed to the ground, confused.

And then it hit him.

"Stiles?"

Unbearable fear clenched Derek's heart and his eyes flicked around, desperately looking for the young man that was sitting next to him only a few minutes ago. He used all his strength to grab at the broken Jeep and pull himself up, standing on shaking legs. Panic started bubbling inside him, and breathing became harder by the second. His other hand landed on the Jeep's roof and he gripped it to steady himself, knuckles white and trembling.

"...Stiles!" He choked out again, louder. He was paralyzed, and even though he could already feel himself beginning to heal, he didn't seem to be able move away from the empty Jeep. "Dammit, STILES!"

A faint, crunching sound of glass grinding onto pavement reached the wolf's ears, and suddenly his legs were working again, running towards the sound with fear and hope and pain mixed together into a terrifying blend.

There, four feet from the ruined car, lied the bloodied, broken body of the boy he loved.

Derek slid down to his knees mid-run, ignoring the pain it caused to his healing injuries. He stared at the broken young man in front of him, hands trembling with the need to pull Stiles up and take his pain away, but too afraid to cause more.

He was lying half on his side, half on his stomach, facing the smashed car. Derek noticed with a wince that there were tiny pieces of shattered glass still cutting into the pale skin of Stiles' face and arms. His arm was slightly twisted, but Derek didn't think it was broken. His forehead was bleeding, and his clothes were torn in a few places, revealing bruised and bloodied skin. But that wasn't the worst injury he had.

Derek let out a shuddering breath, staring with disbelieving eyes at the large, sharp piece of broken glass that was buried in Stiles' gut.

"No. No, no, no...!"

A soft, agonized whimper left Stiles' lips and his eyebrows came together in a pained frown, eyelids fluttering open to reveal tormented whiskey-colored eyes. Derek tensed, his hand finally coming to rest on Stiles' neck, which seemed to be the least injured spot at the moment. "S-Stiles." He mumbled, eyes staring at his hand. He couldn't look anywhere else.

"Derek..." The boy's voice was so weak and full of pain, like a whimpering whisper that tore at Derek's heart. His heartbeat was so faint... It was terrifying. "It hurts... e-everywhere, hurts..." Derek closed his eyes shut, the hand that wasn't touching Stiles shaking uncontrollably.

"I know," He whispered back, helpless and desperate. "I know, I know, I know... God, Stiles...!"

There were tears in his eyes when Stiles' pain finally started to seep into his own veins, it's intensity forcing a gasp out of Derek's lips as he watched some of the tension on the boy's face fading. In a desperate attempt, he dug his cellphone out of his pocket, a hushed swear leaving his mouth at the broken screen. It was still working, though, and he dialed quickly, calling for help. Fast.

He dropped the phone after that, and stared at Stiles' pale face. He noticed with breathtaking fear that his lips were already losing color, and there was dark, red liquid dripping slowly from the corner of his mouth as his eyelids fluttered when he sucked in shallow, agonizing breaths. Derek tried to fight the panic and fear that filled his chest, carefully sliding his hands under and around Stiles' chest, and as gently as he tried pulling him onto his lap, still a terrible, hoarse scream tore out of Stiles' throat, ending with a shaky, breathy whimper. There were tears now rolling down his cheek as the boy opened his eyes and tried to focus on Derek's face, his wheezing breaths coming quick and shallow, panting the pain away.

"Shh," The wolf whispered, closing his eyes shut and embracing his bloodied body closer to his, resting his chin on the top of his head as he leeched the pain from everywhere he touched. Dark veins were seeping into his whole body, taking his breath away. He didn't care. "It's okay, it's okay..." He whispered repeatedly as the faint sound of weak heartbeats slowed. It's okay.

It's gonna be okay.

Stiles' hand was weakly, shakily touching his arm. His head rested closer to Derek's chest, breathing in his scent. It was comforting. The pain was almost gone, and Stiles could smile a little at that. It won't hurt anymore, soon.

Just, one more thing, before he left... He was whispering something, only Derek could hear.

And then the slow, weak heartbeats were gone. And Derek knew Stiles was gone, too.

That night, the wolves were howling. A terrifying, heart breaking sound of loss and grief.

With a heavy sigh, Derek placed a soft kiss on his fingers, gently touching the headstone again. He smiled, blinking the tears away. He stood up, staring at the name that was written there.

"Your dad says hi." He said, his voice slightly trembling at the end. "Scott too. Everybody's fine now, you know."

"It's okay."

"I'm fine, too."

What a terrible lie that was.

A/N: So? Was that a total mess or...? Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you think, lovelies.

Ta-ta!